Paul is on the right in this picture

"You are my best friend and I hope you will always remember this. I pray that our savior will forgive me and you will also."

I read a journal article yesterday in Scientific American about the catharsis of blogging and maybe an insight as to why it has become so popular in America. I think we probably all would agree with that assessment. Josh expresses that with his "Stress Filled Times of Me", doesn't he?

Today I write about my friend Paul Randall. He sent an email yesterday, maybe 30 minutes before he took his life with a gunshot to his head. The long and the short of it was that he was in pain and without hope. He had been a firefighter and EMT and a decorated one. He was my friend and my assistant in the West Bountiful scout troop and loved doing that until the pain became too great. Few parts of his body functioned in any sort of normal way. The sound of his own voice made his ears hurt. Surgery two months ago to correct the hearing only made it worse. Among other things he had Menieres disease which affected his balance, equilibrium and made him nearly constantly nauseous. In spite of everything we enjoyed a fruitful and positive relationship. We would explore the favorite places I enjoy eating in the valley. He thought the chicken on the mezedakia plate at the Other Place Cafe was the best chicken he had ever tasted in his life. That was his favorite after the Trang, dim sun at the Ahn Hang, mo mos from Shambala, and Crown Burgers. Nielsen's frozen custard was something he had never experienced until we took the boys there one night. He taught the boys how to fish, tie a hook on and cast a line. We worked on the stitch and glue boat together which he really enjoyed discovering this new process of working with wood. The boys liked him and appreciated his help and guidance with the scouting work. He was dedicated to them and they knew that.

There is a hole in my life, in all of our lives, because of his passing. Thanks Paul for being one of the best friends I ever had.

An update -- Following the funeral services yesterday his widow informed me that she had his Scout shirt buried with him in the casket, "because he loved scouting with the boys so much."